Life's Crossroads
by brassband777
Summary: My version of the fight between John and Sam before he left for Stanford. Teenchester. Caring big brother Dean. WARNING: contains SPANKING of a teenager - please do not read if this offends.


**Title****: Life's Crossroads**  
**Author****:** **brassband777**  
**Characters****: John, Dean (22), Sam (18).**  
**Scenario****:** **teen!chester**,

**Summary****:** **An AU variation on the fight between Sam and John before he went to Stanford.**  
**Author's Notes****: This was a challenge to myself to leave my comfort zone. Very different from my usual fluff and happy endings – contains lots of angst and heartache. Some readers may not like my portrayal of John in this, although his reasons behind what he does are genuine. I also admit I know nothing of American university procedures. **

**Beta'd by the amazing Capricorn 1986! Without whom, I would not have had the confidence to post this. Thank you!**

Eighteen-year-old Sam Winchester stared at the expensive, creamy-coloured envelope in his hand. He was at a crossroads - what he chose to do now, would change the course of his life forever. It was what he had always wanted, or so he had thought, until he had actually held the acceptance letter from Stanford in his hands. The life with his Dad and brother was all that he had ever known and when he had received the acceptance letter two weeks ago, after the initial elation that he had felt had worn off, it had been replaced with a complete and utter irrational fear of the unknown and the unfamiliar. After pining for so long to be 'normal' the irony of it was not lost on Sam and he had chuckled humourlessly to himself. To accept or not to accept, that was the question.

To Sam, college had been a dream, one that he had longed for, but never really believed he would ever grasp. Sure, he knew his grade point average would more than get him in, but the finance side of things had seemed insurmountable. Even if he had managed to obtain one of the partial scholarships on offer, it still wouldn't have been enough. But a full ride? Never in is wildest imaginings had he contemplated that.

After a few days, the shock had gradually worn off and Sam had slowly been able to take the time to get his head around it all – after all, why was he worrying? College was what he had always wanted and it wasn't like he was losing anything, he wasn't giving up his Dad and brother, right?

Sam took a deep breath and shoved his Stanford letter, which now contained his reply slip accepting the offer, deep into his jacket pocket, before opening the front door and stepping out into the street. He would post it before his Dad and Dean got home from the local mechanics where they were both putting in some casual hours in order to earn some extra cash. Sam felt that he was on the brink of a new life – one where he could have everything he had been lacking up until now.

**Supernatural ~ Supernatural ~ Supernatural ~ Supernatural**

"Dean…" Sam trailed off, unsure how best to break the news to his brother.

Dean glanced up from the arsenal of weapons spread out before him on the table, which he was methodically disassembling and cleaning. He eyed his younger brother for a moment, immediately taking note of the way that the teen was shifting his weight anxiously from one foot to the other and unconsciously twisting the hem of his t-shirt in his hands.

"What's up, Sammy?" Dean's big brother radar was on high alert.

"It's _Sam_," came the automatic, expected response, which Dean invariably ignored anyway, "err, Dean….well, I…..it's, uh….."

"Just spit it out, Sammy."

Sam took a deep breath and spoke the words in a rush. "I got into college, Dean. I'm going to Stanford in the Fall."

Dean opened his mouth and then closed it again. He was certain he couldn't have heard right. "Come again, Sam?"

"College, Dean, I got in. A full ride! Can you believe that?"

Dean just stared for a moment, struggling to digest the fact that Sam really wanted to leave them. Leave _him._ Sure, Sam had mentioned wanting to go to college, but Dean had never taken it seriously. They were meant to be a united force, the three of them carrying on _the family business_, saving people.

"Aren't you happy for me, Dean?" Sam's heart fell at his brother's unresponsiveness. He had expected Dean to be proud of him.

Dean tried to pull himself together – his thoughts were in a total whirl. _Sammy couldn't leave._ Seeing Sam's worried expression, Dean took a deep breath and with practiced ease, slipped his game face on. A fake wide roguish grin split his handsome features as he stepped forward to gather his brother into a bear hug.

"That's great, kiddo. I'm so proud of you! You must have inherited those geek brains of yours from me."

"Yeah, sure," snorted Sam, rolling his eyes as he returned the hug. For a moment, the fear of the unknown resurfaced. _How would he cope with being on his own without Dean by his side?_ Sam mentally shook himself. _Get a grip! You're a Winchester, not some dependent baby!_

Sam broke the embrace and began to prattle on about the classes he was going to take, but Dean was still in a state of shock and was only half-listening. A sudden thought struck him – _their Dad would never let Sam go! He was always on about needing his sons at his side. _Overwhelming relief washed over Dean and he found himself unconsciously relaxing– _their family unit would remain complete_ - but hot on its heels, came staggering guilt. _What kind of brother was he when he was glad that his little brother's dream would be torn away from him? _Dean felt sick with himself and as he reseated himself at the table, he kept his head down, focussing on the weapons, unable to meet his brother's eyes.

**Supernatural ~ Supernatural ~ Supernatural ~ Supernatural**

Sam took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. Two weeks had passed since he had told Dean about college and he yet had to pluck up the courage to broach the subject with his father. Sam had been telling himself that it wasn't the right time, because John was distracted with a local hunt for a cockatrice, but if Sam was being honest, it was because he was a coward. He knew that his Dad would not react to the news well.

From the tender age of eight, when his impulsive decision to take and read his father's journal had changed his life forever, Sam had just assumed that he would grow up to be a hunter like his Dad. He had assumed that he had no choice in the matter. That had all changed when he had met Mr Wyatt at Truman High. For the first time in his life, he had considered the fact that he _did _have a choice – Mr Wyatt had followed his heart and become a teacher against his parents' wishes and it had all turned out okay, so why couldn't he do the same? When Sam had at first mentioned college shortly afterwards, John had just thought it was a passing phase and not taken it seriously. However, when Sam was still harping on about it when he was sixteen, John had become impatient and told him in no uncertain terms that college was incompatible with their life-style and had refused to discuss it any further. So Sam had shut up about it, but his determination to one day go to college had remained.

Sam anxiously rubbed his sweaty palms together and walked into the living room. John was sitting at the table writing in his journal, while Dean was sprawled in the worn, patched leather armchair flicking lazily through a car magazine.

"Dad, I need to talk to you."

"What is it, Son?" John was distracted and didn't look up from his journal.

Dean however was immediately on alert – he suspected he knew what Sam was going to say and he knew without a doubt that he would be on big brother comforting duty after this particular conversation had taken place.

"Dad….I wanna go to college. I wanna become a lawyer." Sam had decided that asking would be better than using the confrontational '_I'm going'_.

John looked up with a sigh, running a tired hand over his face. "I thought we'd been through this, Sammy? You know it's not possible."

"But it is, Dad…I got in! To Stanford….and you don't have to worry about money or anything because I got a full ride."

John unconsciously rose to his feet, his face looking like thunder.

Sam glanced at his father anxiously through his long bangs, waiting for the inevitable explosion.

"You went behind my back and applied?"

"I'm sorry, sir," murmured Sam, "but you wouldn't have let me."

"Damn straight I wouldn't!" growled John.

"It'll be fine, Dad, you'll see. I can still help you and Dean with hunts when I'm on vacation…and I'll still be able to help with research and stuff…" Sam trailed off, waiting for his father's response. He knew his dad would never agree willingly, but surely once he was forced to accept the idea it'd be fine?

John glared at his youngest. He couldn't believe that Sam had deliberately gone behind his back. _The kid obviously needed a reminder about who was in charge in the Winchester household!_

"You're not going, Sam, and you're grounded until further notice."

"No, Dad. I am going." Sam's voice was soft, but held conviction.

Before Sam could react, John lurched forward and snagged his wrist in a vice-like grip. "I said, you're not going anywhere, Samuel…and that's final!"

"You can't stop me." Sam's voice was cold steel, sending shivers up Dean's back. Sam tried futilely to yank his wrist free from his father's unyielding grip.

"I'm your father! And you'll do what I damn well say!"

"No, I'm eighteen, an adult. I can make my own decisions."

Something in John snapped. _Sam couldn't go away to college! He didn't understand! John knew now that that demon all those years ago hadn't been after Mary, it had been after Sam, his darling baby boy! What he didn't yet know was why. To keep Sam safe, the boy had to stay with them, where he and Dean could protect him, with their very lives if necessary. And if he had to spank Sam into submission, then so be it._

John hauled the lanky eighteen-year-old over to the worn leather sofa. Sam dug his heels in and tried to resist, but he proved no match for his father's strength or determination. John gave a sharp tug on the wrist and easily pulled his son over his lap. Sam wasn't exactly surprised to find himself in this position – if you disobeyed Dad's orders, you were pretty much guaranteed a butt warming. It didn't slacken his resolve any though – his dream, his white-picket fence, normal life was finally within his grasp. _He just had to make his Dad see reason!_

The force of Dad's hand when it hit however, was a surprise. A pained yelp was forced from his lungs. Sam didn't have any time to recover though, as the seat of his jeans was struck again and again and again. The force of each swat rocked his whole body forward and the only thing that prevented him from falling headfirst off his father's knees was the arm of iron locked securely around his waist. Sam knew without a doubt that he'd never been spanked this hard before.

Dean watched in horror. He'd witnessed his brother being spanked on more occasions than he could count, but not like this! John had always made a point of not spanking when he was angry, in case he accidentally bruised his children, but at this moment there was a wild light in John's eyes. Unbeknownst to Dean, the glint in John's eyes wasn't anger - it was all-consuming fear. Fear that he would lose his youngest, the hinge that held their little family together.

Dean watched, aghast, as his father raised his hand as high as it would go each time, before crashing it down onto his brother's buttocks. Dean had never seen his father put so much force into his smacks, he was extremely thankful that Sam at least had the protection of his clothing, limited though that must be. The swats were also landing at a furious pace, giving his little brother no time whatsoever to recover between blows.

After only a minute, the pain had increased to such a level that tears were flowing freely down Sam's face. He grunted or yelped loudly as each swat landed. His dad's hand felt like it was laced with concrete.

Dean saw Sam swipe his sleeve across his eyes and knew that his baby brother was crying.

"Come on, Dad. That's enough," pleaded Dean.

John shook his head. "Your brother's got to learn to follow orders, Dean. Following orders is what'll keep him safe."

John's hand continued to rise and fall with painful regularity. Sam was unconsciously squirming across his knees, trying to evade the unrelenting stinging, burning pain.

"Are you prepared to be sensible now and give up this ridiculous college idea, Sammy?"

"No." Sam barely managed to grit it out through his teeth, which were clenched against the pain.

_No, no, no!_ John's mind screamed _he couldn't lose Sammy, he couldn't!_

John tipped Sam slightly forward over his knees to improve the angle and laid down a barrage of swats to the teen's sensitive under-curve and the crease where his thighs met butt. Sam gripped hold of his father's left leg tightly, hanging on for dear life. He was convinced that he'd never be able to sit down ever again in this lifetime. Sam felt like he was choking on his tears and bit his lower lip hard, trying to manage the pain. A moment later, he tasted blood as he'd bitten through it. The pain was truly at an unbearable level.

Dean stared for a moment at the growing wet patch on the floor that was formed by his brother's tears and stepped forward resolutely. "You gotta stop, Dad. It's too much. You're spanking him too hard."

"Stay outa this, Dean. This is between your brother and me."

"But, Dad…"

"No buts. Now park your backside, Dean. That's an order!"

Dean warred within himself, but in the end, a lifetime's worth of training won out and he sat down heavily in the armchair in the corner and buried his head in his hands. It couldn't block out the relentless smacking sounds intermingled with Sam's pained cries and increasingly choked sobs.

To Sam's utmost relief, his Dad finally moved his swats to a new area – the back of his thighs, but the relief was short-lived, as the pain level there too quickly became unbearable after layer upon layer of stinging swats was applied.

At last, after what seemed an eternity to Sam, his father's hand finally stopped falling and the only sounds in the room were Sam's sobs, muffled by the hand he had pressed over his mouth, his other hand still clinging to his Dad's leg and John's heavy, agitated breathing. It was by far the worst spanking he'd ever received.

John looked down at his son, sprawled across his lap, making no attempt whatsoever to stand, even though John had removed his restraining arm from around the teen's slender waist. He could feel the boy trembling. John was frozen for a moment. _What if I've really hurt him? I'd never forgive myself!_ John had planned on delivering a memorable spanking and knew that it was definitely the harshest one that he had ever given to either of his children, but he was desperate. _Maybe I should have spanked him on the bare to make sure I wasn't doing any damage?_ He knew that this had been the last chance - if this hadn't curbed Sam's plan to leave, then nothing short of handcuffing him and physically keeping him a prisoner would.

After a few minutes, when there was no change, John raised his eyes briefly, immediately meeting a pair of accusing, blazing green ones and he glanced quickly away, unable to deal with the recrimination that he saw there. Dean glared at his father, and then looked anxiously back down at his immobile, sobbing brother.

"Sammy?" John's voice was soft, hesitant, but there was no response.

John lifted his crying child into a standing position, immediately concerned when the boy swayed for a moment on his feet before finding his balance. _What had he done to his baby boy?_ Dean too had noticed the waver and was at his brother's side in a split second, ready to catch him should he fall.

Sam instinctively reached behind him to rub at his buttocks, only to jerk his hand away immediately with a pained hiss as even that slight added pressure proved unbearable. He looked up at his father in front of him through his bangs, his vision blurred with tears. He knew he was a disappointment to his father and that he was going to disappoint him further by going away to college against his orders, but he'd _always_ be a disappointment, he just wasn't like Dean!

John stared at Sam for a long moment, taking in his flushed face and the tears pouring incessantly down his cheeks. His heart was filled to bursting with his love for this child. John reached out, trying to take the teenager into his arms and comfort him as he always did after a spanking, but Sam stumbled back a couple of paces, pushing at his hands in order to ward off the embrace.

"Sammy I….." _Sammy I love you. Sammy I'm scared for you. Sammy I love you and Dean more than life itself. Sammy I want to protect you. Sammy I need you._ All of these things hovered on the edge of John's tongue. At one time, it had been so easy to communicate his love to his youngest, but recently they always seemed to have their wires crossed and had exchanged nothing but arguments and harsh words.

Sam shook his head mutely. He tried to speak, but choked on a sob, taking a deep, shuddering breath before trying again. "I-I'm going to St-Stanford, Dad. E-even if y-you sp-spank me again, I w-won't ch-change my mind."

John stood frozen for a moment. _No, this couldn't be happening!_ He didn't notice Dean's sharp intake of breath at this pronouncement, too wrapped up in his own horror. Dean had been totally convinced that Sam would bow to John's will eventually. He wasn't prepared to face the prospect of being without his little brother, even if it was only during term-time. Dean finally fully appreciated the fact that Sam was indeed as stubborn as John Winchester.

John's overwhelming fear morphed and revealed itself as unquenchable anger.

"You are _NOT _going, Sam!"

Sam swiped his arm across his eyes – a futile exercise as the tears removed from his cheeks were instantaneously replaced with new ones.

He took a deep breath to steady his voice before replying. "I _**am**_ going. There's nothing wr-wrong with going to college. It's what normal people do."

"We are not a normal family, Sam! You know that!" John, his face livid, took a threatening step towards his youngest son.

Dean immediately stepped between them - physically being caught in the middle between the two people who meant more to him than anything, rather than just mentally, as he had been doing for the last couple of years ever since their father/son relationship had begun to slowly corrode. There was no way Dean was going to let his father lay another finger on his brother right now.

"Y-you just want to control me, Dad, Well, you c-can't, not anymore."

"How can you be so selfish, Sam? What about your brother and me? If you walk out that door, then you don't bother coming back. Do you hear me?" for a moment the words just hung there, before John turned on his heel and left, slamming the front door so hard that the whole house shook.

Dean immediately made to follow him. "Dad, wait!" By the time he made it outside, John's truck was already pulling away.

Returning quickly to the living room, Dean discovered that Sam had disappeared too.

"Sammy?" he called tentatively. Upon hearing no reply, he felt panic well up within him, before he realised that he could hear a muffled sound coming from down the hallway.

Dean pushed open the bedroom door, his heart shattering into even more pieces as he heard his little brother's loud, gut-wrenching sobs. Sam seemed totally beyond the point of trying to stifle them, as he usually would have if upset. Each one exploded from his throat and his whole body shook with the force of them.

Dean knew that this wasn't a result of the spanking – the physical pain from that must be considerable no doubt and had indeed made him sob, but not like this! This sounded like pure unadulterated grief, as if Sam had lost every single thing that was precious to him in this world. Dean couldn't bear to hear his brother sounding like this, sounding as if his very soul had been torn out.

"Hey, hey, hey, come on now…." Dean murmured quietly, soothingly, immediately taking on his big brother persona. He reached out his hand and placed it reassuringly on the heaving back, shocked to realise that underneath the exaggerated movement from the force of his sobs, Sam was actually trembling from head to foot with the force of his emotions.

Dean hesitated for only a moment – since they had both become teenagers, physical interaction between them had reduced to a hand on the shoulder here, a punch to the arm there, ruffling Sam's hair (just to annoy him) and if things were really really bad, a tight, manly, brotherly bear hug from time to time, but when they were younger, when Sam was just a child, physical comfort had been exchanged freely.

He carefully lay down next to Sam, wrapping his arms around the distraught teenager, before pulling him against his chest. Dean half expected Sam to pull away, what with his new independent streak, but instead, just as he had when he was a young child after a nightmare, he turned and curled in to his big brother for comfort. Sam wrapped his own arms around Dean, hugging tightly back and buried his head into his brother's chest. Dean used one hand to rub gentle, soothing circles along his spine, continuing to whisper a litany of words of comfort into the floppy, chocolate hair nestled under his chin – "Shhh….it's okay, Sammy…..everythin's gonna be all right…..you're okay…..big brother's gotcha…." – while Sam's tears soaked steadily through his t-shirt.

Eventually, Sam cried himself out and fell into an exhausted sleep, but even then, his breath still hitched for a long time afterwards.

Dean continued to run his hand gently through his sleeping brother's hair. Only then did he let his mask slip as silent tears coursed down his cheeks. _His family was falling apart. Sam was leaving_ – Dean had no doubts left about that.

Sleep lifted slowly from Sam. As a result of all of the tears that he had shed, his head felt like it was filled with cotton wool and his eyes were puffy and sore. He was immediately aware of the warm body next to him. _Dean_. And he felt safe. Dean had his arm looped loosely around Sam's waist and one leg thrown protectively over his brother's. The incessant, throbbing ache in his backside was a constant reminder of what had taken place the evening before and Sam felt his eyes filling with tears once more. He angrily brushed them away.

He felt broken – his Dad didn't care about him. He was basically being thrown out. Sam knew that compared to Dean, he always fell short, but he'd at least thought his Dad wanted him around. How wrong he was! It hurt so much to know that his Dad was quite happy to cut all contact and erase Sam from his life.

Sam was unable to prevent the choked sob that escaped him. Dean, forever alert whenever his brother was concerned, was immediately awake and propped himself up on one elbow.

Sam, embarrassed to be seen crying yet again, turned over and buried his head in the pillow. Dean sighed and leaned over, pulling the resisting teen into his arms. Sam struggled for a moment, but when he realised that his brother wasn't going to let go, he submitted and buried his head in Dean's t-shirt instead.

Dean unconsciously began rocking Sam as he used to when Sam was a young child and had suffered a nightmare.

"It's gonna all be okay you know, Sammy," he soothed. Dean had his own emotions on total lockdown, his sole focus at the moment was his distraught little brother.

"How can it be okay?" sniffled Sam, his voice muffled. He felt safe with his face pressed into Dean's broad chest and at this moment, he never wanted to face the world outside again.

"Because big brothers know everything."

Sam pulled away slightly to look up at Dean and rolled his tear-filled eyes, a watery half-smile making an appearance. "Yeah, right," he snorted.

Dean grinned back, relieved to see the tentative smile on his younger brother's face and aware that his sobs were thankfully beginning to fade. "It's written in the big brother manual I was given when you were born, so there, Geek Boy."

It took a further twenty minutes for Sam to calm down completely. He reluctantly pulled out of Dean's embrace, wiping away the last traces of tears with the back of his hand.

"I've gotta pack," he murmured, climbing off the bed and grabbing his duffle. Sam had not meant to leave home until right before the semester started, but now, he had no choice. How could he stay any longer when his own father had basically disowned him? He would just have to stay in a motel until he could move into the university dorms.

Sam quickly set about getting changed, merely turning his back to his brother. Having lived virtually in each other's pockets their whole lives neither was particularly self-conscious about being naked in front of the other – modesty was no use when checking and caring for each other's injuries for example.

Dean physically recoiled at the state of Sam's ass and thighs. Despite the hours that had passed, the skin was still fire-engine red, but nestled here and there were many purplish patches – John had badly bruised the boy. _Their Dad had __**hurt**__ Sam_. Dean's brain just couldn't comprehend that fact. Even though he knew that their father would never have done that on purpose, anger boiled up in him and if John Winchester had been present at that moment in time, Dean would have socked him one without hesitation. Sitting on a bus, for so many hours, was going to be utter hell for his little brother. With purpose, Dean moved over to the med kit and shook two painkillers out of the innocuous glass bottle. He handed them to Sam with a glass of water.

"That bad, huh?" Sam attempted a rueful smile, which came out more like a grimace. He gratefully swallowed the pills and handed the empty glass back to his brother, before tentatively palming his backside. Sam gave an involuntary hiss at the extra discomfort caused by the pressure. "Errr….Dean, could you please give me lift to the bus station?"

Dean rolled his eyes. 'As if you have to ask, Sammy! My baby's gonna miss you, you're so gonna have to kiss her goodbye."

"I'm not kissing your car, Dean! And it's Sam."

"Whatever, dude. Do you need any extra cash or anythin'? I've saved up quite a bit from hustling pool."

Sam shook his head. "No thanks, I'm good."

He paused, looking around for the last time at the place that had been home for the last few months, before hoisting his duffle onto his shoulder and following Dean out the front door.

**Supernatural ~ Supernatural ~ Supernatural ~ Supernatural**

Sam fiddled nervously with the hem of his jacket. The bus to California had just pulled into the terminal and he would be required to board any minute.

"You'll be fine, Sammy. You're a Winchester remember." Dean had noticed his younger brother's agitation.

"I'm really gonna miss you, jerk." Sam could feel his eyes welling up once more. It was a miracle he had any tears left.

"Right back at yah, bitch." Dean pulled Sam in for a quick hug, as the other waiting passengers began to board. "You know with all this hugging we're doing, we're both gonna grow girly bits."

Sam snorted and as soon as Dean released him, he stooped to pick up his duffle and turned towards the bus.

"Dad didn't mean it you know," Dean called after his brother's retreating back.

Sam heard, but didn't reply – he was certain that his father had meant every word.

**Supernatural ~ Supernatural ~ Supernatural ~ Supernatural**

Dean pulled up outside the ramshackle building that had been home, but now was anything but with Sammy gone. All that Dean felt was a vacant void inside him. He didn't know if he'd be able to feel anything ever again. He noticed straight away that his Dad's truck was now parked outside. John would know that Sammy had indeed left, because the veteran hunter would spot immediately that all Sam's meagre possessions were missing.

Dean slowly pushed open the door, feeling as if he had the entire weight of the world on his shoulders and that he was about to be crushed by it. He didn't know what he expected, but it certainly wasn't to find his father, the mighty John Winchester, standing in the middle of the living room with tears streaming down his face.

"He's gone, D-dad," Dean choked unable to continue. At the same moment, his legs buckled under him, but he never hit the floor as he felt his father's strong arms encircle him, holding him up and preventing him from going under in his grief.

Dean collapsed against John's broad chest, the sobs that had finally shaken free wracking his whole body. He clung to his father like a life-line, as if his very life depended on it. For a long time they stood there, father and son, their tears intermingling.


End file.
